Altogether Different: Home For the Holidays
by In Hiding
Summary: ON INDEFINITE HIATUS... House/Other. Sequel to "Altogether Different". A meeting of summer and winter, of real life and real love, and of Wilson and Kelly.
1. Interesting

This series in entitled "Altogether Different: Home for the Holidays" and is a sequel to the canonical "Altogether Different", which took place between seasons 4 and 5. "Home for the Holidays" takes place after "Joy to the World", and will part ways with the canon for obvious reasons (i.e. Wilson would not be able to keep his mouth shut about House's relationship upon their return to Plainsboro).

While some things will be discovered anew through Wilson's eyes, I will not be purposely revisiting our heroes' history, so it is highly recommended you read the original series first. Visit my profile to find the link. Some reviews for the original "Altogether Different":

riordan123 said: "This is just what House really needs. I really wish someone like Kelly would come on the show."

Buffy Sparrow said: "You are so amazing in the way you're slowly developing their relationship. I don't think I've ever read any other story as good as yours. Other stories try, and by the time they get to chapter 40 I'm usually yelling at my computer screen for them to just hurry up and end it. Not yours, though."

Amaranthine24 said: "I adore this story. I read it all the way through until I reached the most recent chapter and I couldn't believe how much I wanted to keep reading. Kelly is so believable as a character and House is well... House. Their relationship is wonderful to read about and you find yourself wondering what will become of them? A wonderful story and definite fav."

Thanks so all my readers and reviewers. I hope that you enjoy this sequel as much as the original... and perhaps more!

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"You're really not going to carry on with this, are you? You're going to have to tell me SOMETHING about these people."

"What do you want to know?"

"Their names, for a start."

Wilson was finding it hard to muster believable annoyance with this much leg room to enjoy. The first class ticket (that House HADN'T found a way to charge to him) was as much a mystery as everything else about this holiday trip. But if the alternative was a Christmas home alone, alone with his memories and his loneliness, being kept in the dark and forced to play House's little games wasn't the end of the world.

"Philip and Colleen Campbell."

"Anyone else?"

"They have three children," House added vaguely.

"Do the children have names?"

"Andrew, Kelly and Evan."

It was no secret that House didn't care much for children, so Wilson was surprised he'd bothered to learn or remember their names.

Considering he'd refused all the alcohol he'd been offered (it WAS early to be drinking, even for him), House was awfully quiet and mellow. Wilson figured it couldn't hurt to press for more. "Have you been to their house before?"

"Yeah."

"And they actually invited you back. For Christmas."

"Yeah."

"Which means you're probably related. Your father's side or your mother's?"

"Neither."

Hmm. Wilson would have put money on that one.

"But you're sure they won't mind me being there over the holidays."

"Nope."

Okay, this wasn't mellow. This was downright distracted.

It was Christmas Eve day. Up until he'd received the call last night he'd been expecting quiet days filled with much pizza and beer to be the amount of holiday cheer he and House would experience this year. But after he'd left the hospital's Christmas festivities and eaten a late dinner alone, he'd realized he was wishing for something more meaningful. So when the phone rang at 1 a.m. and House had told him to pack a bag for a family-style Christmas out west, Wilson agreed... once he'd taken the time to determine that House was reasonably sober and completely serious. Still, when he arrived at the airport just a few hours later he half-expected that House wouldn't be there.

He was. The plane took off at just after 6.

Wilson pushed further but got nowhere, and eventually House put on his headphones and went to sleep, or at least feigned sleep believably enough that Wilson was willing to let him be.

Eight hours, three in-flight movies, one plane change and almost no additional relevant information later, they arrived in a new state and a new time zone (local time: 11 a.m.).

By the time they reached the baggage claim area, House's condition had deteriorated from "distracted" to "sullen", and Wilson was dying to figure out why.

"So, is someone coming to pick us up, or what?"

And then their ride arrived.

There were several moments of shocked silence which Wilson could not have been expected to understand. And then the young woman spoke. "You're not my uncle Malcolm," she said to Wilson. "And you are DEFINITELY not my aunt Edith."

"Yeah, they didn't want to see you," House told her in an approximation of his usual snide tone that Wilson didn't quite buy. "Philip told me they're visiting Edie's sister back in the "old country", wherever the hell that is." A pause. "Surprise."

The woman shook her head as though to physically banish her remaining disbelief before evaluating and addressing him. "You must be the famous Dr. James Wilson; I can't imagine anyone else putting up with Greg for that long on a plane."

"Guilty as charged." He held out his hand and received a firm handshake. "But I'm afraid I'm at a disadvantage."

Her eyes narrowed and she looked suspiciously at House for a moment. "He hasn't told you a thing, has he?"

"I got some names and a general location."

She chuckled and appeared unsurprised. "My name is Kelly. It's very nice to finally meet you." Another meaningful look at House and then she was all business. "Is this all your luggage?"

Wilson's mind was in high gear, assimilating the new fact that had presented itself: Kelly was not a child. Still possibly young enough to fit his "House's love child" theory which had sprung up in his wonderings on the plane. Or perhaps one of her brothers was an illegitimate offspring. One thing was for sure --- Kelly didn't seem to know how to react to House's presence there. And House seemed to feel even more awkward.

Interesting.

Kelly's car was parked in a "permit only" spot near the terminal doors. "Does someone in your family work for the airline?" Wilson asked conversationally.

"Something like that," she replied, popping the trunk and hefting House's large suitcase, politely refusing Wilson's help. "We'll need to go back to the shelter for a bit; I have a few things I need to finish up. We'll be taking my work van to my parents so all our stuff will fit."

Wilson looked at her helplessly.

"How about you sit up front with me and we'll get acquainted," Kelly offered with a friendly grin.

So while House sat silently in the back, Wilson and Kelly got to know one another. She offered nothing about her connection with House --- Wilson sensed that she either enjoyed playing along or wasn't sure exactly what to say about it --- but talked animatedly about her work at the shelter. At his prompting, she explained that the girls were placed with families from a local church over Christmas.

"Usually my mom and dad have one or two girls with them at Christmas --- it's kind of the coveted placement, actually, because they've all heard stories about how my parents spoil their holiday guests. But this year they all got placed elsewhere, so I guess the two of you are the ones who are going to get spoiled."

Kelly's joy and enthusiasm were infectious and endearing. Wilson liked her already.

But where could House fit in to all this? He examined Kelly's profile carefully. She didn't look like House, but that didn't necessarily mean his theory was wrong. Although he wondered if it was possible for someone like House to spawn such a decent and compassionate human being.

Wilson asked for a tour of the shelter when they arrived, while House volunteered to transfer luggage from the car to the van. Choosing manual labour over casual interaction. Interesting.

Finally, they were about ready to go. "I should run to the bathroom before we hit the road," Wilson said, eyeing House who had found his way to the kitchen and was apparently rummaging for a snack. And when he disappeared up the stairs he moved slowly, both to give them some extra time together and in the hopes that he might overhear something on his way.

What Wilson DIDN'T hear would have been telling:

"I can't believe you're here. And I can't believe you didn't tell me you were coming!"

"Your dad and I have been planning this for ages. Though I almost chickened out. Many times."

"I'm glad you didn't. I've missed you."

"We talk almost every day."

"I know. But it's not the same."

"No, it isn't."

What Wilson didn't SEE might have given it away:

House opened his arms and she sank into him, overcome by unexpected tears.

What Wilson didn't KNOW was anything at all. But that was soon going to change. And it was going to be plenty more than just "interesting".


	2. Family

Wilson had missed the practiced signal that had landed House behind the wheel and assumed it had simply been decided in his absence. If he had any idea just how many hours these two had logged in a vehicle together he would have fought harder to stay awake and observe their (what he thought was awkward but what was actually) comfortable silence. But it had been a very early start to a very long day that was far from over, so when sleep came for him he let it carry him away, snoring lightly for the next two hours.

What he failed to observe in that time was the system they'd worked out to allow or veto a song on her iPod playlist, the quiet reminiscing of a previous drive along this road, the argument over a plot point of the last show they'd watched together while chatting on MSN, and the fingers that near the end of the journey settled tentatively on a thigh for a long moment just to see if that was still alright.

And it seemed to be alright.

The hand that shook him awake was gentle so he knew it wasn't House. He stirred and stretched and followed them inside.

"Greg! You made it!" An older man with a big smile was the first to greet them.

Then an older woman appeared and literally clapped her hands in delight, embracing House with obvious affection. "Greg, honey, we're so glad you're here!"

"And Dr. Wilson, welcome. I'm Philip Campbell and this is my wife Colleen. We're delighted that you could join us for the holidays."

Wilson had the sudden thought that perhaps he'd been a little backwards in his assumption; maybe Philip was House's real father. But then why would they have staged this visit as a surprise for Kelly? Yet he couldn't quite picture House and Colleen together.

"Mr. and Mrs. Campbell," he greeted magnanimously. "I really appreciate you including me."

Colleen was still doting on House. "You've lost some weight. Don't worry; we'll get you fattened up."

"Mom, he just walked in the door," Kelly defended. "Give the poor man a break!"

"Shut your mouth, woman. If your mother wants to fatten me up, then so be it."

"House has never met a free meal he didn't like," Wilson offered.

"Don't I know it," Kelly mumbled. "Now, where's my baby brother?"

"I thought he was still overseas," House commented.

"That was his original plan, but as the time got closer he just couldn't stay away," Colleen contributed, adding for Wilson's benefit, "Our youngest son Evan is in the Peace Corps."

"Well, if no one is going to tell me where he is, I guess I'll have to hunt him down myself."

"Try the music room, honey, and we'll get these gentlemen settled."

Kelly took off near-sprint, and making apologies Colleen returned to the kitchen to finish Christmas dinner, which she informed them was being served very soon in deference to their arrival and for the benefit of their stomachs that were still on Eastern time.

"Our eldest son Andrew and his wife Esther arrived this morning," Philip told them as he helped them unload the van. "They'll stay until tomorrow afternoon and then drive up the coast to spend a few days with Esther's parents. We'd like them to stay longer but we're thrilled enough to be able to have our granddaughter here for Christmas morning."

"How old is she?" Wilson inquired politely.

"Jillian's four going on 40. Just like Kelly was at that age, I might add." The latter comment was obviously directed at House, Wilson noticed.

"Where do you want us?" House asked. Wilson wondered if he was deflecting.

"Colleen said to put Dr. Wilson in your old room, Greg, and you can take the other one downstairs." Then Philip went off to add Kelly's brightly wrapped packages to the pile under the tree and left House to lead the way.

"They seem nice," Wilson broached.

House only grunted, giving no outward sign that his heart had nearly burst with rarely felt joy to have been welcomed --- finally with his first name --- by these people as family.


	3. Dinner

Wilson was seated at the gigantic dining room table with Andrew's wife Esther on his right and Evan on the left. He quickly realized that he wasn't the only "extra" to be included in the family's Christmas feast as he was introduced to several members of Philip's staff and their spouses. It was loud and crowded but yet comfortable.

After Philip asked the blessing and the food was served, Wilson chatted away with Evan about the Peace Corps and with Esther about their animal rescues and to them both about his practice and life back in Jersey. However, he wasn't so engaged that he failed to keep an eye on what was transpiring across the table.

First he watched Colleen and House's interaction, considering that while she seemed to old for him NOW that 20 years ago (Kelly couldn't be much older than that, Wilson surmised) the difference wouldn't have mattered. But he couldn't ignore that she treated him more as a mother would than anything else. And besides, Philip didn't seem like an idiot; would he really invite the man who had knocked up his wife to spend the holidays and welcome him as a friend?

Perhaps Kelly was House's child by another woman, and the Campbell's were the adoptive parents. Yet he could see a family resemblance, especially between Kelly and her younger brother. Could they both be House's children? If so, it seemed House had little connection to the man.

House had lost some of his awkwardness, and while he was more quiet than usual when he did speak it was with his own brand of 'charm'. Kelly sat beside him but focused most of her attention on her niece. They seemed more comfortable together now, and Wilson noted a few meaningful looks passing between them. But that was all there was to see.

After dinner, the Campbell children sprung into action clearing the table; it was announced that in their family the cooks never cleaned, and so Colleen invited the guests to the living room for coffee. Wilson tried to volunteer to help with the dishes but Colleen would hear none of it.

"I don't suppose I qualify as a guest..." House said hopefully.

"Not a chance," Kelly told him immediately. "And don't bother crying 'cripple', either."

House swore under his breath and Colleen chastised him. "I was about to tell her she was wrong, but now you can go wash some dishes AND your mouth."

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled, and did as he was told.

While Wilson stayed with the crowd in the living room, he missed House's first real interactions with the overprotective brothers who had had no forum outside of Facebook to determine if they approved of the man's involvement with their sister. Because they assumed that if he had come all the way to California for Christmas his intentions toward Kelly were clear.

Kelly didn't share their assumptions; she was missing some important pieces of information that House, for all his transparency, had chosen to keep from her.

House himself wasn't sure about anything except that he was glad he came. He'd hoped that allowing Wilson to tag along --- a gesture of goodwill on his part, not wanting to leave his best friend alone for the holidays --- wouldn't ruin everything. But it wasn't until he was on the plane that he realized for better or for worse this would at least CHANGE everything. Kelly would no longer be his secret, and Wilson wasn't going to settle for allowing House to remain in limbo.

That might end up being more "better" than "worse". Time would tell.


	4. Friendship

"Greg? Can I come in?"

Wilson had been rejuvenated by his sleep in the car, but when he'd been offered the option to retire to his room in the early evening he'd taken it. He was the type that enjoyed meeting new people but he didn't want to infringe any more than necessary on their family time. Also despite his mother's Jewish heritage he rather enjoyed Christmas dogma and had agreed to attend the Christmas Eve service with the family that night. 11 p.m. for them was, of course, 2 a.m. for his confused body. A rest wouldn't hurt.

When the knock sounded and the soft voice came from outside the door, Wilson wasn't sleeping but laying on top of the covers reading.

"You can come in," he called out, "but I'm not House."

Kelly entered the room, obviously confused. "Sorry, Wilson. Did my parents tell you to take this room?"

"Your dad did, yes. Is that a problem?" He beckoned her closer with the wave of a hand.

"No, not at all. It's just... this is Greg's old room. I'm surprised they didn't put him in here."

Wilson just shrugged. "Sorry to disappoint you," he said with a grin. "But since you're here..."

A few simple questions asked and answered turned in to an hour of getting to know each other. Wilson got to learn about Kelly, her family, the Campbell foundation, and the like, and Kelly got to find out first hand much more than what she'd ever received second hand from House. Kelly didn't offer and Wilson didn't ask for her to divulge House's connection until a great deal of laughter and genuine interest had sealed their fledgling friendship.

"So, are you going to tell me how House fits in to all this or what?"

Wilson was sitting with his back against the side wall and his legs straight out on the bed. Kelly was laying with her back on the bed and her legs straight up against the wall, stretching. She looked up at him with humour in her eyes. "He's YOUR _bff_, honey. Shouldn't you be able to get it out of him yourself?"

"Oh, I will eventually," he assured her. "And normally I'd just pester him with theories until he gave it away. But for whatever reason this doesn't seem like one of his usual games..."

"And just what are you two girls gabbing about?" House had impeccable timing. "I must have misplaced my invitation to the sleepover. Have you already had the pillow fight in your panties?"

"Hey, no boys allowed," Kelly shot back, sitting up to look at him. "Why don't you turn around and take your cooties right back out of here."

He gave her the finger and she laughed gaily.

"I'm going to rack up the 'rents PPV charges in HD," House announced. "You in, Wilson?"

"Yeah. Nothing says "Merry Christmas" like - " Wilson coughed and looked sideways at Kelly. "Uh, like the kind of things you generally watch on Pay-Per-View."

"You mean romantic comedies, right, Wilson?" Kelly teased. "My parents subscribe to all the movie networks when they know the kids are coming home. I'm sure we'll be able to find something festive... and appropriate... to watch."

"'WE'?" House repeated with exaggerated incredulity. "What if Wilson and I don't want YOUR cooties around?"

"I think I kinda like her cooties," Wilson said with a smile, offering her a hand to help her off the bed.

"Traitor."

But in the end it was just the guys that sat down in front of the TV, House on the couch with a bottle of water and Wilson in a recliner with a soda; Kelly wanted a hot drink and told them to start without her. And though he'd resolved to let House reveal all in his own time, it didn't take long for Wilson to lose the battle with his tongue and just blurt out what he was dying to ask.

"House, is Kelly your daughter?"

Thankfully it was only water House was drinking at the moment, because now what was in his mouth was all over him as he choked and coughed and gasped for air. "WHAT?" he finally managed, and Wilson saw that he was laughing.

"I take that as a 'no"."

House was still coughing --- and laughing --- when Kelly returned.

"Greg, honey, you're all wet. What happened?"

"Your new gal-pal here just told a funny joke," he told her, wiping his mouth on his shirt and getting to his feet. "I'm going to go change. I'll let him deliver the punch line."

Too late a few errant details clicked into place. She'd talked about her education, her time at the shelter. Damn.

"Kelly, do you mind if I ask how old you are?" he asked as she waited expectantly to be filled in.

"I turned 33 last month. Why?"

Wow. He'd only been off by about 13 years. Her age plus House's reaction made the conclusion obvious.

"So, you and House are...involved."

"Well... I guess. In a manner of speaking." She looked at him quizzically. "But what's so funny about that?"

Wilson just sighed and shook his head, amazed that he could have been so off-base. It was just so unlike House to keep quiet about his sexual conquests. But then her answer alone meant there was more to this, that much was certain.

"It's okay. Greg will tell me later, and his version will likely be funnier. And mostly lies." She took a sip of her tea and then looked at him prettily. "So, how old did you think I was?"

He smiled. "Early 20's, tops."

Reaching over and giving his arm a squeeze, she said, "Dr. Wilson, you and I are going to get along just fine."


	5. Smitten

_A/N - After an injury I'm at the point when I can type again without too much discomfort. I've gone back through the original series and cleaned it up as I've reoriented myself with this love story. I'm glad I did. As I'm physically able, I look forward to continuing._

"So, tell me about Cuddy."

That was about the last thing Wilson would have expected Kelly to say as they drove alone together to the church. Kelly had taken one of the family cars and invited House and Wilson both to go early with her, but only Wilson had replied in the affirmative, House insisting that there was "no way in hell" he'd be going to at all. Kelly had seemed unconcerned, confiding in Wilson later that her mother would make sure was House was there whether he liked it or not.

"Cuddy. Uh... Well, she's the chief of staff where we work. She -"

"No, I know all that. I've actually met her before."

"You have?" More pieces clicked into place as he remembered the borrowed car in the hospital parking lot that rainy night. The unexplained California plates may just have been explained.

"I meant I wanted to know about Greg and Cuddy."

Wilson's eyes went wide and his mouth went shut. He had no business getting in the middle of this.

Not that it would stop it him. "Uh... Well, what have you heard?" he asked finally, ever the diplomat.

"I heard that he kissed her. And I heard way too much about that ridiculous office fiasco."

He laughed with her. "And you heard how he got her the desk?"

"Honey, the desk was practically my idea. I also helped him set up Kutner with the prostitute," she added proudly.

Wilson should have known House wouldn't have come up with either idea on his own. "And you know about the baby."

"Joy."

"No, the new baby." He could tell by her sideways glance that this was news to her, and he explained as best he could.

Kelly went quiet for a few moments before heaving a great sigh. "So that's why he's here."

"Mmm, no, I don't think so." Wilson wasn't quite as intuitive as Kelly, but he had the advantage of having known House longer and of seeing him every day. "I've been trying to figure out ever since he kissed her why he's been so conflicted and unwilling to move ahead." He smiled genuinely. "And now I expect I've been lacking the key piece of the big picture."

Her silence confirmed it. He was positively itching to demand she tell him the whole sordid tale when she pulled into the church parking lot.

He drank coffee in the foyer while she did a sound check, and was then placed in charge of guarding a row of chairs so her family could sit together. Kelly joined the pastors and service participants to receive final instructions, leaving him to fend for himself in the unfamiliar setting.

Unfamiliar, but not uncomfortable. The large, modern sanctuary was tastefully decorated. The two side LCD screens announced upcoming church events while the larger middle screen played well produced and humorous Christmas videos. Several people greeted him, and the family that sat behind him engaged him in easy conversation.

Soon enough, the Campbell family arrived with a sleepy child and a sullen House in tow.

"You're wearing my tie," Wilson observed cheerily when House sat down heavily beside him. "And that's not your sport coat, is it?"

House said nothing, and Wilson didn't find out until later that Colleen had demanded he attend, and that him purposely 'forgetting' to pack anything up from jeans was not enough to get him out of it. She'd sent Evan down with one of his leisure suits and an edict that he was to be in the van by 10:40, no excuses. Thankfully Evan was about his size, but the well-fitting suit didn't make him look or feel any less unsettled.

Wilson turned his attention from the sullen to the sleepy; House and Jillian sat on either side of him. The little girl was starting to come around, and cutely confided in Wilson that she liked being able to wear her pajamas to church.

Kelly joined them just as the service began, slipping into the aisle seat beside House, who managed to sulk right through until nearly an hour later when Kelly stood and left again without saying a word. At that point Wilson's attention came off of what was happening on the platform and shifted to his friend.

Without an introduction, Kelly sat down at the piano and struck a chord. From that moment onward House was transfixed. And from the corner of his eye Wilson watched his expression change as she sang a simple and beautiful song of despair and hope and Christmas. When she led into Silent Night and the congregation was asked to stand and join as the lights were dimmed, House was late in registering the request and probably the last in the room to rise to his feet. And for the first time that night Wilson heard him sing along.

Wilson joined the line to embrace her when the service ended and she left the platform. The whole service had been well done and well received, but Kelly's song seemed to have been the highlight for almost everyone. House hung back but no longer seemed sullen or sulky, just thoughtful.

And, if Wilson was interpreting him correctly, distinctly smitten.


	6. Obviously

Philip and Colleen had signed up to assist the church by bringing a carload of food collected at that night's service to the local soup kitchen, where volunteers would already be busy pre-cooking donated turkeys and peeling hundreds of potatoes in preparation for the Christmas meal. So Kelly handed the car keys to her parents and she and Wilson joined the others in the van for the short ride home.

The main topic of conversation was pajamas, the Campbell children filling the newcomers in on one of their favourite Christmas traditions: for as long as they could remember, they had come home from the Christmas Eve service to find a wrapped package on their beds containing new pajamas which would be immediately donned and worn for the majority of Christmas day. They also warned House and Wilson that the youngest always had wake-up duty privileges, and so they should be prepared for Jillian to jump on their beds in the morning. The rule was that no gifts were to be opened until all parties were present and accounted for around the tree.

Arriving home, Evan headed for a shower, Esther went to put the sleeping Jillian (already sporting her new Christmas pajamas; now Wilson understood why she had been so proud of them) to bed, Andrew set off to put a few "Santa" gifts under the tree for his daughter, and the exhausted guests whose bodies told them it was three in the morning --- though in this time zone it was only midnight --- said goodnight and retired immediately to their respective rooms.

Or intended to. Wilson met House in the hallway. "I found this on my bed," Wilson said accusingly, holding a brightly wrapped package labeled "James".

"Your pajamas, obviously," House said as he tried to push past him.

"Well yes, obviously. But why would they have pajamas here for me?" he continued as he followed House into the bathroom. "House, by any chance did they know I was coming before *I* knew I was coming?"

Exhausted as he was, House was appearing awfully lighthearted for a reason Wilson couldn't identify, humming as he brushed his teeth. "Of course," House told him through a mouthful of paste. "Your plane ticket was booked like a month ago."

"House!" Wilson exclaimed, exasperated. "Then why didn't you tell me a month ago?!"

"Because I didn't decide for sure until last night that *I* was going to come." He spit and half-smiled at Wilson in the mirror. "Obviously."

Wilson sighed. "Obviously."

Upstairs another confrontation was taking place over pajamas. Kelly's were not on the bed in the spare room she had chosen. They were not on the bed of ANY of the spare rooms on the third floor. She went downstairs where her mother was hanging the stockings to ask about it.

"They're on your bed, dear. I put them there myself before church."

"In which room?" Kelly questioned, a little distracted by the box she saw under the tree labeled "Kelly" in House's familiar handwriting.

"Why, YOUR room. Obviously."

"Obviously you didn't, because I was just in my room and they weren't there." She picked up the box and shook it, but the rattling revealed nothing conclusive.

"Well, maybe Greg moved them. Did you ask him?"

"Why would Greg have moved my..." Obviously. "Mother, do you mean my room downstairs? The room you told Greg to take?"

Colleen avoided looking at her daughter and continued on with what she was doing, smiling to herself.

"Mother..."

"Honey, get out from under the tree," Colleen scolded lightly. "You have to wait until tomorrow like everyone else. Honestly, you're worse than Jillian."

"And YOU are worse than... than... I don't even know!" But she left the tree and flopped onto the couch.

"I just thought I'd save you the trouble of sneaking down there after we were all asleep, that's all." Colleen finally turned to face her, smirking.

She blushed. It had been a long time since she'd blushed. "I haven't seen him in four months! Why would you think - "

"Four months is a lot of time to make up for. Besides, you and Greg have been sharing a bed from the word "go", you told me yourself."

"Yes, in the hospital when the alternative was hypothermia."

"So the night of your father's heart attack when I had to fetch Dr. House and found his room was empty, were you having a relapse or was there some inclement cold weather passing through?"

Busted. "We haven't had sex."

Colleen abandoned her puttering and sat down beside her daughter, taking both of the younger woman's hands into her own. "Honey, you know my feelings on that sort of thing. But you're a big girl now and need to make your own decisions. All I ask is that you be appropriately attired when Jillian comes to wake you up in the morning." She kissed her cheek. "And you might not want to mention it to your father."

Kelly searched her mother's face. "You're an insufferable romantic, you know that?"

"Guilty as charged. Have a good night, sweetheart."

The light was on in House's room --- her room --- when Kelly knocked softly on the door and let herself in without waiting.

House was laying on top of the covers stretched out like a corpse with his hands folded on his chest. Staged for her benefit; under his hands was a gift-wrapped package, and since he was wearing his new pajamas she knew it must be hers.

He'd fallen asleep waiting for her, however. He barely stirred when she took the package from him.

Now what? Head back upstairs and deal with him tomorrow? Or do what she'd been wishing she could do for the last four months?

After a few deep, calming breaths, she made the only choice her heart would allow: she stayed.

Obviously.


	7. Twirl

House didn't feel the movement of the mattress when Kelly climbed up beside him, but the sound of tearing paper was more than enough to startle him into consciousness. Just as she'd been hoping.

"You're not wearing your rings," were the first words out of his mouth. It was an observation he'd made on their drive home from Sacramento but hadn't had the chance or the guts to voice until that moment.

"No, I'm not," she acknowledged, crumpling the wrapping paper into a ball and taking a missing shot at the waste basket near the door. Then she held up festive flannel against her and asked, "So what do you think? Is it me?"

"Put it on and I'll give you my honest opinion."

"I will. In a minute. Though I don't I'll look as good as you." He had rated a mature blue silk which made his eyes even more stunning. She looked at him rather sheepishly. "I guess my mom thought we needed a little help along."

"When I saw what she'd done I instantly forgave her for dragging me to church."

"She was only doing my dirty work," Kelly admitted. "She actually told me to let you stay home, but I wanted you to hear the song I'd written."

House's face registered surprise. "You wrote that?"

From sheepish to insecure. "Yeah. Did you... I mean, was it...?"

"It was. And I did."

A relieved sigh. A nod. "I'll go get changed." It almost seemed silly for her to leave the room; he'd seen her in various stages of undress on many occasions. But too much time had passed.

When she returned he was under the covers. She did a little twirl. "Well?"

"I guess they're nice... if you're NINE," he scoffed. He didn't bother to mention that he thought she was adorable.

He didn't need to. She could tell.

"Well..."

"Well..." he echoed, not taking his eyes off of her though he could barely keep them open.

"I guess I should go and let you get some sleep."

But she didn't move. She was waiting for him to either say goodnight or tell her not to be an idiot, unsure of which it would be.

He was apparently unsure too. There was a long pause before he finally chose. "Don't be an idiot." And he folded back the covers and switched off the bedside lamp as though the matter were settled.

Which of course it was. She didn't need to be told twice.


	8. Steamroller

What surprised her most was how strange it felt.

Considering, as her mother had pointed out, they'd been sharing a bed since the word "go", it shouldn't have felt this strange. Time had passed, certainly, and their last night spent together had escalated to the embodiment of 2nd base and well into 3rd as so eloquently describe by Wikipedia (a factor she could have easily blamed if it hadn't been so easy to look him in the eye the next morning). Yet the last four months of frequent talking and texting and emailing and Facebooking had only served to deepen their comfort and connection, even without seeing each other.

But now as she settled with her back against him and his arms around her, in her mind at least there was nothing of the easy togetherness she remembered (and, when she would admit it to herself, craved). So what had changed?

"Hmmph. I can hear you thinking."

Poor House. His body told him it was nearly 4 a.m. and his mumbling was barely coherent, but he must have somehow sensed her unexpected inability to relax. "I've seen you sleep through more ruckus events than me thinking," she countered.

House just grunted and pulled her a tiny bit closer. She let him. "What's'matter?"

"I think I'm just wired from tonight. I can sleep elsewhere if I'm keeping you up."

He made a noise that didn't sound like assent, but she couldn't be sure. Regardless, he wasn't moving and his dead weight was holding her down.

At one time his proximity had made it harder to think, but now the opposite seemed to be true: Eventually she stopped thinking and they both slept, but only after Kelly had extracted herself from his embrace and put some distance between them.

Her unconscious mind was apparently less troubled than her consciousness because when she awoke 6 hours later House was laying on his back and her body was draped over him.

He was also awake. "Is it still called "jet lag" when it wakes you up too early?" he asked. He looked terrible, but now his words were clear enough.

"The Internet will know," she told him with a sleepy grin as she yawned and stretched and rolled off of him.

He was out of bed in a flash, or as much of a flash as his tired and crippled body could muster. "BRB. Gotta pee."

If he brushed his teeth, that would mean something, her sleepy brain decided. Near the end of their time together that summer they'd always brushed their teeth in the morning before returning to bed. Just in case.

Were those butterflies in her stomach? Ridiculous. What was wrong with her? Maybe she was coming down with something. That could truly be the only explanation because nervousness was not an option. Not with him. With them. Over their months apart she'd missed having someone to hold her hand, but she hadn't really missed HIM. With talking (or texting, or typing) as the only option, their capacity and desire for meaningful communication had grown in leaps and bounds, and she derived a great deal of personal fulfillment from their relationship. And the few times the girl in her had taken over and she'd wondered if he truly felt the same way, it would be him that would insist they stay on the phone for an extra hour despite him needing to work the next day, or him that would send her a 5 page email about absolutely nothing just to make her laugh. No, he was right there with her. And except for one drunken comment after the Cuddy-kiss incident, they had never once talked about "getting involved" or "taking their relationship to the next level" or "having babies" or anything of the sort. They were what they were, and that was good enough, and if anything was going to change then ---

He returned smelling of mint, and she swallowed hard.

Instead of getting back under the covers, he just sat on the edge of the bed, perhaps certain that if he were to lay back down it would be impossible to get up again. Her own bladder would soon need to be emptied, so she pulled herself upright and sat next to him, her feet grazing the floor and her hands in her lap.

His eyes were on her hands, she soon noted. "I can hear you thinking," she echoed his earlier statement with a shaky half-smile.

With a tentative (really? Them, tentative?) move, he traced his index finger along her knuckles and stopped where her engagement and wedding rings would (should?) have been.

"I just realized it didn't make sense for me to wear them anymore," she answered his unvoiced question after a deep breath. "So I took them off. Awhile ago." Why had she felt the need to qualify that?

He turned her hand over and traced the lines in her palm. Like he used to do to relax her when they were stuck in traffic. "I'll guess I'll buy that, but only because I know there's probably 10,000 pages worth of reasoning behind it." And he waited expectantly.

She was comfortable with the idea of making him wait quite awhile; she got out of bed and headed towards the bathroom. "I'm going to grab a shower. If we're lucky Jillian will sleep in for awhile, but be forewarned that when it's time to open presents, you will DEFINITELY know."

Kelly could hear him following her and fought with herself over the merits of slowing down or speeding up. She was still fighting when she reached to close the bathroom door behind her.

But it wouldn't latch. She looked down and saw the end of his cane sticking through the doorway near the floor. "Greg..." she began warningly.

"I thought we were way beyond drama," he said in a low voice, probably as aware as she was of Wilson's proximity. "And frankly I'm a little offended that you didn't tell me before. I practically told you every time I tied my shoe or took a piss during the last four months and now I find out you've been holding out on me with the juicy stuff."

She peeked out at him, looking and feeling genuinely apologetic. "I guess I didn't think you'd care." That was partially true. Partially.

"I didn't say I CARED. It's just interesting."

She didn't buy that at all. And that was why she opened the door a little more and rewarded him with an answer. "A wedding ring symbolizes a commitment to "love, honour and cherish, forsaking all others." A commitment that I honoured unwaveringly for seven years."

He paused. "Okay..." He sensed there was much more to this than he was picking up on. There had to be, and yet his tired brain was frustratingly missing the connections.

Thankfully, she continued. "And I kept wearing it because a part of me felt like I needed to keep honouring that commitment, even after Mark's accident. But I couldn't. And I didn't have to. "As long as we both shall live." I fulfilled the commitment. And I realized because of that I didn't need to feel guilty about moving on." She looked at him meaningfully.

And he understood. And suddenly... were those butterflies in HIS stomach? Ridiculous.

Ridiculous.

She noticed the difference in him and felt suddenly empowered by it. "So. Satisfied?"

He regarded her thoughtfully, and then he opened his mouth to speak. "I -"

A thud interrupted him, followed by another, and then more as Jillian came literally JUMPING down the stairs to meet them.

Immediately switching gears, Kelly emerged from the bathroom to gather the little girl in her arms and quiet her. "Shhh... Don't wake Wilson yet. He seems like the kind of nice guy that would appreciate a steamroll, don't you think? Has your daddy taught you about steamrollers?"

"Uh-huh; that's how I woked Gampy up!" She giggled as only a kid on Christmas morning could, and Kelly shushed her again and set her down, pushing her in the direction of Wilson's room.

And as she and House stood in the doorway to await the proceedings, the slight caress of his hand on her arm made Kelly shiver in a way his touch never had before. And she knew all at once what had changed: SHE had changed.

Slowly, carefully, Jillian climbed up on Wilson's bed, and after throwing a theatrical look over her shoulder at the waiting pair, she rolled her small body over his sleeping torso yelling "Steamroller!" at the top of her lungs. And as Wilson woke and laughed and tickled her, Kelly looked up at the faintly grinning House and when his eyes locked on hers she shivered again.

While in a markedly different way, Wilson wasn't the only one steamrollered that morning.


	9. Unwrapped

_A/N - Still no particular plan to finish this, but apparently I may be compelled to pick away from time to time. :) I love the Kelly character, and Kelly and House together. Sometimes I just can't help myself!_

The gift exchange was only a fiasco for those aware that Wilson had (through no fault of his own) come completely unprepared to be part of Secret Santa, which was the tradition for Campbell adults who were far too rich to need or desire much in the way of material possessions. So when Colleen received with great delight a rare collectable she'd been hunting for and the tag had read, "from James," Kelly choked on her morning tea and House smiled beautifically as he only ever did when he was completely guilty and completely proud of it. Wilson accepted the hug and the profuse thanks with a bemused expression. Kelly wasn't sure if he was struggling with his own integrity or with his knowledge of House and how this gesture was so unlike him.

The morning's highlight for Kelly and Wilson alike was Philip's Secret Santa gift to House. Well, for Kelly is was the gift, and for Wilson it was House's reaction to the gift.

House had opened the envelope to reveal a laminated piece of paper, about the size of a business card. It contained an 800 number, followed by what looked like a software key - a string of letters and numbers in groups of 5.

Kelly reached up and took the card from his hands, looking at it front and back before asking the obvious question: "What is it, Daddy?"

Philip smiled humbly. "It's just a way of hopefully insuring that we'll see Greg around here more often." He spoke to House directly. "If you ever have the time to get away and want to visit, even if only for a day or two, just call that number and give them that access code, and they'll get you here on the next plane, no questions asked."

House opened his mouth then shut it again, helpless.

"Of course, if there's somewhere else you or someone you're close to need to get to in a hurry, don't hesitate to make use of it." He smiled again. "I hope you like it."

"I, uh..." House didn't know how to "do" grateful; he only knew how to tease and berate and make light of the situation. If Wilson hadn't been there, he might have made an attempt at sincerity. As it was, he chose the middle ground, rising to his feet with some difficulty and, when Philip did the same, offering him his hand in a firm grip. "Thanks."

Philip glanced at Kelly for the briefest instant, and judged correctly by her pleased expression that this gesture of gratitude was something special and sincere.

"You're very welcome, young man," he said simply.

And with that, the gift exchange was over, despite Jillian's protests of "but there's more"! There were indeed more gifts under the tree, but any presents outside of the Secret Santa event were to be saved for later in the day and presented directly to the recipient by the giver. House had known this in advance, or else he would not have had the nerve to do what he'd done.

Brunch preparation was left to the men of the house; another family tradition, and one that both House and Wilson were invited by Phillip to participate in. It was rather an odd site (one captured in a few stolen cell phone snapshots by Esther which would promptly find their way onto Facebook): five grown men, all barefoot, in pajamas and aprons. Wilson loved every minute, but House was harder to read even than usual.

"So Dr. Wilson," Andrew began, "You'll be in for a special treat today - has Greg told you about our annual Christmas jam session?"

Wilson looked at House. House looked at Andrew. Andrew looked at Philip and smiled. "Looks like Kelly forgot to mention that."

Philip clapped House on the shoulder. "We've been very much looking forward to having you join us this year, Greg! After brunch we'll take a few hours together in the music room and do some arranging. I have a friend who takes our recordings and turns out a really nice finished product for us to have as a family memory."

House hummed noncommittally, but Wilson saw the interest in his eyes.

"And of course you're welcome to play along too, Dr. Wilson."

Wilson politely declined, but said he was looking forward to witnessing it all.

Brunch was served at 10:30, and devoured by 10:40. Esther shooed them from the dining area and reassured them she was happy to clear the table and load the dishwasher. She reminded them that they needed to "get to work" so Andrew would be ready to leave by 1. So off the Campbells went to the music room, House needing no encouragement to keep up.

Wilson stayed back to help Esther, with an ulterior motive not well hidden. After few minutes of small talk, he began the third degree.

"So you had never met House before, right?" Wilson broached carefully.

"No, I hadn't. We almost crossed paths after Philip's heart attack, but he was on a plane back home by the time Jillian and I were able to join Andrew at the hospital."

Wilson must have looked as lost as he felt, because she filled in the blanks. "Greg saved Philip's life, you know. Got his heart started again before the EMT's arrived and prevented a lot of damage. And then of course that was all AFTER he had saved Kelly's life. So as you can imagine Colleen talks about House all the time. I came here expecting to meet a man 12 feet tall and with the light of heaven shining out every oriface."

Wilson chuckled, but was busy assimilating this new information and trying to decide where to start with all the new questions that were popping up.

"And when did this all happen?"

Esther looked at him quizzically. "You really have no idea about any of this, do you?"

"House is..." Wilson sighed and searched for the words. "He's a genius, certainly. But when it comes... well, most things... Anyway, you're right. I am completely at a loss here, and I think both he and Kelly are enjoying keeping me in the dark."

"Hmmm..." The last dish was in the dishwasher, and she snapped it shut. "I'll tell you what, Dr. Wilson. I'm going to grab my laptop upstairs so I can check my Facebook. And then if I just happened to leave it logged in and you just happened to stumble upon House's profile..."

"House has Facebook?"

"...then it wouldn't really be anyone's fault, now, would it?"

Wilson had tried to talk House into getting Facebook before, but House had refused, saying it wouldn't be worth it since he only had one friend anyway. Knowing now that he DID have Facebook somehow cemented that House had a secret life that Wilson was completely unaware of. But in that moment it didn't bother him - he just needed to see what it revealed.

A few minutes later, Wilson was settled on the couch with a cup of copy and a Netbook. Esther patted his arm and told him sweetly that she'd deny everything if pressed. He thanked her and started to read.

In the music room things were in high gear. Jillian was in the corner with the morning's gifts, but everyone else was behind or holding an instrument: Colleen on keyboard, Philip on bass, Andrew on drums, Evan on electric guitar, Kelly on acoustic, and House in his glory at the piano. Esther had no skill or even real appreciation of music, but she appreciated the joy in the room, which came in loud and clear well over the sound of the instruments. She joined her daughter on the floor, and listened.

Back in the living room, Wilson was feeling like a voyeur, but he just couldn't stop himself - he would have to deal with his guilt later. After learning that House had exactly 5 Facebook friends who were all currently in the Campbell home with him, Wilson had quickly abandoned House's page, which had little content other than a record of posts and pictures he had liked and commented on, and switched to Kelly's, which was the primary source. And while it was obviously sterilized for public consumption, to someone who had no clue about any of the events and feelings described, every picture and post from the time House and Kelly had first encountered one another was a revelation. He only wished there was a way to access their private messages to one another, but that would have to be a project for another day.

Her "notes" from their time together were the most telling. It was clear she'd made them private to everyone but her family, and they were therefore more transparent than the rest. It was a diary of a journey from one ocean to another, and then back again. Wilson learned about her late husband, about her unexplained illness, about her unexpected friendship with the doctor who would go on to save her life, and about how he had agreed to help her finish her important quest for healing beyond the physical.

He shouldn't have been surprised by the tears. Wilson connected with her story of the loss of her husband on a deep level, and he was broken again by the fact that Amber wasn't with him this Christmas, and would never be with him again. But he also connected with her hope, voiced on every page. And with the vibrancy and happiness that he "watched" develop over the months that followed, and then saw in person over the last two days.

Maybe he wouldn't feel this way forever, after all.

House and the Campbell clan spilled out of the music room noisily, alerting Wilson who roused himself and escaped to his room, leaving the computer, lid snapped closed, for Esther to find. The tears wouldn't stop, so he locked the door and ignored the quiet knocking of Andrew and Jillian 20 minutes later, who wanted to invite him upstairs to see them off. He didn't, however, ignore the tone that sounded on his phone indicating a Facebook private message had been received.

This message was attached to a friend request from an "Esther Carver-Campbell". It said simply: "I hope you found what you were looking for."

He smiled through his tears and accepted the friend request, writing back: "Better yet, I think I found something I WASN'T looking for. Thanks."

Kelly knocked a while later, and feeling a little more controlled he let her in. She was surprised when he immediately pulled her into an embrace. "I need to apologize to you", he blurted before he could stop himself.

She laughed, unconcerned, and squeezed him back hard, sensing he needed it. "Whatever for?"

"I used Esther's computer to Facebook-stalk you." He released her and smiled sheepishly, not realizing the the evidence of his tears had not completely faded. "I just couldn't stand not knowing." He heard the shower spring to life across the hall. House, he surmised. He allowed himself to be led into the den and sat close to her on the couch. "I hope you'll forgive me for invading your privacy."

"Honey," she said with a reassuring grin, "I have very few secrets in this world, and those I DO have belong to other people." She glanced towards the closed door of the bathroom. "My real concern is what has you so upset." He opened his mouth to speak, to deny, but she stopped him. "The holidays are the hardest, aren't they? This is my second Christmas since Mark died. But the first one nearly killed me." Her hand went to his arm, soothing. "Her name was Amber, right?"

He was glad he'd already cried himself out, because her compassion would have undid him otherwise. He nodded sadly.

"If you want to talk about her, I'd love to listen."

"Thanks, but..." He smiled. A real smile. "You've already done more for me than you know." He paused. "But there is one more thing you could help me with."

"What's that"?

"You could help me understand what on earth it is you see in House."

He expected her to laugh, but even her smile was half-hearted. "It bothers me to hear you ask that," she explained. "Because it either means I'm nuts, that every else is blind, or that he is too damn good at hiding the things about him that made me fall in love with him." Wilson's look of surprised matched her own, and she interrupted herself with a quick intake of breath. "Wow. I really just said that." And after that she forgot to continue, because her mind was occupied with trying to determine if what she had unwittingly admitted was actually true. Wilson let her be, watching her with fascination.

After a few moments she stood. "I... need a drink. A soda, I mean. I'm... We will talk, okay? About whatever you want. Just not now. I..."

"Need a drink," he finished, grinning. "That sounds like a wise decision. I'm going to take a shower and get dressed when House is done in the bathroom, and then

I'll be up."

She nodded, paused, and nodded again. "Okay." Then she laughed at herself, and went upstairs.

An hour later, everyone was in the living room showered and dressed, and the remaining Campbells getting ready to leave for the local homeless shelter where they would be helping to serve a turkey dinner along with other volunteers.

Kelly was doing so distractedly, though she didn't think anyone else noticed. So she was surprised when as she sat next to House on the couch to tie her sneakers, her mother addressed her.

"Honey, you're looking a little flushed. Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah, mom, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. Greg, does she feel warm to you?"

House was too exhausted to catch on right away. He touched Kelly's forehead, humming noncommittally.

"Honey, if you're not well, it's probably not a good idea for you to go to the Mission today; I'd hate for you to pass on a bug to one of the clients."

Unlike House, Kelly knew right away. "Mother..." she began, exasperated and embarrassed.

"Dr. Wilson, perhaps you'd like to come in her place?" Colleen smiled at him sweetly. "It's a wonderful family tradition, and we'd love for you to be a part of it."

She glanced at Philip and Evan for approval, but they were busy exchanging knowing glances.

"Um... Well, sure. Of course." He looked questioningly at House, whose expression had quickly transformed to understanding.

"Good, then it's all settled. Grab your shoes, Dr. Wilson - it's time to leave!"

"Mother!" Kelly was mortified. Colleen had always been a bit of a meddler, but never to this degree.

"Greg, you'll stay here and take care of my daughter, won't you." It wasn't a question, and didn't need to be.

"Mother, may I please speak to you in the kitchen?"

Wilson was at the top of the stairway when he figured things out, and he chuckled all the way to the bottom.

House waited patiently for the others to leave and for Kelly to rejoin him in the living room. When she did, her smile didn't reach her eyes.

"I'm sorry about that. My mother fancies herself a match-maker, apparently."

House patted the space beside him. "In her defense, you do look a little flushed, and you've been acting weird this afternoon." When she sat he leaved over and pressed his lips against her forehead. No fever. "ARE you feeling alright?"

Considering the feeling that reappeared in her stomach when he touched her, she was inclined to say "no". Instead, she ignored the question. "So... time to open gifts?" she asked hopefully. She knew he'd be eyeing the large wrapped box with his name on it that her assistant was supposed to have mailed but had hidden away instead, having been brought into the secret that House would be joining the family for Christmas. She of course had been equally interested in her own gift, but that was far from her mind now. This was purely a distraction tactic.

He knew, but didn't care. He wanted his present. "Me first!"

She retrieved them both and watched with a parental smile as he tore off the wrapping and opened the box to reveal several smaller packages. The first made him laugh - it was the Harry Potter book series. He'd given up trying to convince her he wasn't hooked, but had managed to stay away from it since he'd seen her last. He cursed at her in jest.

"You're welcome," she chuckled.

The second would have made him sentimental, were he so inclined. It was an iPod. HIS iPod, which he had thought he'd lost. When he looked at her quizzically she explained, "My assistant was at a meeting near you, so I gave him my key to your place and had him break in and take it."

"What!?"

"Turn it on," she encouraged.

He did so, and it opened to a wallpaper of a picture of them he hadn't seen.

"I found it on my mom's camera; I didn't even know she'd taken it. But I love it."

What she loved, he knew, was the way he was looking at her. He hadn't even realized his expressions could be so transparent.

Kelly took the iPod from his hand, clicking and scrolling until she found what she wanted him to see.

House looked, and found himself grinning. "I know what this is. You made me a mix tape!"

She ducked her head sheepishly. "Every once in awhile I would hear a song that would remind me of you, or of us, and I started writing them down. So I bought them on iTunes. But the first time at least you have to listen to them in order. VERY important. I spent a long time arranging them just right."

She was proud of herself, and he found it very endearing. He shook his head. "You stole my iPod to make me a mix tape."

"You love it."

She recognized the look of tenderness on his face and wasn't quite ready to deal with it, so she rushed him on. "There's more!"

He pulled out a legal sized envelope and put the now-empty box aside. Ignoring her offer of a letter opener, he used his teeth to rip the top and emptied the contents onto his lap. He recognized the logo on the gift certificate - it was for a dinner theatre they had visited and enjoyed on their trip home last summer. It was good for two admissions for any of next summer's shows. "What's this supposed to mean?" he asked.

"It means that you and I have a date for the theatre next summer. And if we happen to take the long way to get there and back... well, I think we could find ways to amuse ourselves in the process." She could tell he was considering the possibilities, and the tender look returned. "so... is it my turn?" She didn't wait for his answer, but lit into her own gift with a show of gusto. This box also contained several smaller packages, all individually wrapped and numbered.

She glanced up at him and saw he looked smug; he too was obviously proud of himself.

The first package was Gilmore Girls on DVD, two sets - they'd been watching it online together illegally and he knew it bothered her, so he'd bought one for each of them that was on the level. She smiled widely and praised him for such a clever gift.

Yep, definitely proud of himself.

The second package made her blush. It was the bikini she had worn on the night of the "hot shower". "How on earth did you get this?" she exclaimed.

"Let's just say your assistant is worth every penny. He got someone to find the box in storage and send this to me, and didn't even ask why." He smirked. "You may want to have a talk with him to assure him I'm not some kind of pervert."

"Oh, I'll be having a talk with him alright." She shook her head in disbelief. "So what is the sentiment behind this particular gift?"

"Your parents have a heated pool, sweetheart, and I'm here all week. You figure it out."

She had missed that leer, she admitted to herself even as she swatted at him and told him he was gross.

There were a few other items to unwrap, containing little things he knew she liked: Red licorice, pastel medium gauge guitar picks, 80's style hair scrunchies, and a book of Sudoku puzzles. All meaningful in their own way because of their time together or subsequent phone or online conversations. And then there was one box left.

Extending things by making a show of it, she held it to her ear and gave it a shake. "Hmmm, what could this be?"

Now he was actually looking nervous, and her feeling of gaiety left her. "What did you do?" she accused lightly.

"Nothing... Just open it."

She did. It was a small jewellery box. She shot him a look, but he wouldn't meet her eye.

She opened it. It's contents were obscured by a scribbled note that told her immediately what it was, and sent her back to a very late night conversation they'd had on the phone about her wedding rings, and how though sometimes she wore them around her neck just because the stone on the engagement right made it impractical when she was "getting her hands dirty", her fingers felt lonely when she didn't have them on.

The note said, "In case they ever get lonely." And she immediately recognized the gift for what it was. Even though she hadn't told him that she'd decided to stop wearing her rings before he'd bought the gift, he had hoped that she would. And was prepared with an alternative.

"It's not -" he began. "Christ. Just give it here." He removed the ring from the box and took her right hand (not her left), sliding it onto her finger. It fit perfectly.

"How did you -"

"You really need to talk to your assistant about the kind of information he gives out to total strangers. Although the fact that he knew your ring size right off the bat is troubling in and of itself, don't you think?"

She had stopped listening. The ring was beautiful. Modest enough in size to wear every day, but unique and elegant and obviously expensive. And not only did it fit perfectly, it also suited her perfectly. She was speechless.

"Do you... Did I do okay?"

She hugged him tightly, then gathered up her gifts without a word and bid a hasty retreat to hide her tears.

When she returned 20 minutes later she found a sullen House on the couch where she had left him. Sullen until he looked up to see what he had just thrown at him from across the room: his swim trunks and a large towel. And the opposite of sullen when he saw that, though she was wrapped in a towel of her own, she was obviously ready for the pool, the ring still on her finger.

"Catch you outside, Greg."

Oh yes. Yes he would.

He found her in the hot tub; apparently swimming wasn't on the menu for the afternoon. With some difficulty he sank down into the heat across from her.

"Back to how it all began," she commented.

"Not quite. This time around you already know my name."

"And I'm conscious."

"Yes, there's also that. And you weren't so far away"

The way he was looking at her, she nearly blurted it out right then. Maybe it would be better if she didn't have to see his face. She took the hand that he offered and half-swam to his side. "Do you need me on your lap to complete the re-creation, or will this do?"

"'Need' is such an interesting word. I - "

"I withdraw the question." She pressed into him. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For the gifts. For being here. For not chickening out."

His arm, which had been stretched out behind her on the edge of the hot tub, came around her shoulders. "I wouldn't have chickened out. Not in the end. Though I might have left Wilson at home. He's a bigger meddler than your mother."

"I'm glad you brought him. I think he's having a tough time."

"I thought he seemed to be doing pretty well."

"That's because you've never had someone you're in love with die on you. If you had, you would know."

"Fair enough." He paused. "So how are YOU doing?"

She was shocked that he'd asked. But since their interactions had been purely long distance over the last few months, he'd gotten much better at inquiring, rather than just waiting for her to offer. Though they rarely talked about this.

"I feel bad saying it, but this year is way easier than last year. Last year I was sure I would never enjoy Christmas again." She sighed. "That may be why my family pushed so hard to bring you here. I was such a downer last year and they were trying to prevent a repeat performance."

"Yeah, that's me. Always bringing the fun in." For some reason, he felt uncomfortable talking about this in generalities. It was like he needed her to invoke her dead husband's name just to prove to him that she actually could without falling apart. But when her hand came to rest on his thigh, he suddenly felt uncomfortable in a whole different kind of way. The kind of way that brought to life many other memories... including the way she looked OUT of water in the bathing suit she was currently wearing.

Kelly sensed the shift in his attention and panicked when he started to turn toward her. "So... How's Cuddy?"

He made a frustrated noise. "Seriously? That's seriously what you want to talk about right now." He threaded his fingers through hers. "You are such a tease."

She had missed him more than she had even realized. "Well, excuse me for wanting a little clarity about where we stand before I let you do to me what I know you want to do to me."

The leer was back, though not as confident as before. "I thought we'd decided a long time ago that we weren't going to talk about it - that we were just going to let things happen as they happen."

"Yeah, that was until you drunk dialed me to tell me about kissing Cuddy."

"You're the one who's been goading me on this entire time about Cuddy!" He should have been angry, annoyed, frustrated. But only with her could he have this conversation with a smile, however wistful, on his face. "You know full well that one SOBER dial from you and I would have been on the first plane here."

She didn't bother to counter him or to make excuses. This was something she'd purposely avoided thinking about, because she knew there was no solution. "So why ARE you here?" Her head rested against his shoulder. "Why the ring and the bathing suit and sleeping in the same bed?"

"Would you like the answer in list form, or essay? Either way, we could be here for awhile." He kissed her temple. "I'm here because we DON'T have to talk about it. And I'm here because your dad paid for my plane ticket."

"Well that's good news, because now he's paying for all your plane tickets, so I should expect to see you more often." She beamed up at him. "We should probably get out soon, before our insides start cooking."

"I was so hoping you'd say that."

"You just want me to strut around in this bathing suit."

"I'd be just as happy for you to strut around OUT of that bathing suit." His hand slid down her calf as she climbed out of the tub, making her shiver.

He noticed how uncertain she looked, how quickly she wrapped herself in her towel. But he wasn't worried. It was Christmas, after all. A day for UNwrapping.


End file.
